


Five Years

by SnitchesAndTalkers



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: 4am Writing Rarely Ends Well For Me, Angst, M/M, Peterick, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 07:23:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11375361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnitchesAndTalkers/pseuds/SnitchesAndTalkers
Summary: Patrick was. Then Patrick wasn't.





	Five Years

18:43 October 17th 2016

It's been two hours since Patrick died. 

There hadn't been any drama. No protracted struggle with some difficult illness. No accident with catastrophic injuries. Just a smile and a “does anyone want a drink?” and legs sinking out from under him as he folded to the floor.

Pete had laughed. Pete had told him to get up and quit fucking around. Patrick hadn't moved.

Joe had skidded, knees scraping across the floor as he clawed his way to Patrick, as he hauled him onto his back. His eyes were still open. Glassy. Pete remembers that. 

Andy had shouted for an ambulance and Pete had stopped laughing. There had been chaos and panic and Joe had his lips to Patrick's but not in a kiss and Patrick's chest had risen and fallen but not without Joe's doing the same thing. 

Pete had stood back. It would be okay, he'd been sure of that. Someone with an expensive degree would arrive and they'd fix it and Patrick would smile and call Pete a fucking idiot for crying. He'd been sure of it.

The ambulance crew arriving at the studio is a blur for Pete. Joe pulled him away and Joe's face was wet. His eyes were red but not from weed and he'd clawed at his hair and pulled at Pete and somehow he'd let himself be dragged away. Patrick still didn't move.

When they took him away in the ambulance they didn't put the lights on. They didn't rush. Patrick was zipped into a bag in the back and Pete had wanted to scream at them to stop because he didn't like closed spaces. They made him feel itchy and nervous. Joe and Andy were still making noises and it could have been crying or it could have been talking or it could have been both. Pete isn't sure. He knows they took him back inside. He knows they sat together on the couch for a long while. He knows they're still sat there now.

He knows the world is silent.

12:15 October 24th 2016

It's been close to one week since Patrick died.

The funeral is in three days. Pete doesn't want to go. Joe says he has to. Patrick's wife has insisted on music Patrick wouldn't want. She wants an open casket - “he looks so peaceful, you should go see him” - and Pete can _not_ fucking deal with any of it. 

It was Sudden Adult Death Syndrome. Which seems to Pete a fancy way of saying they don't fucking know what killed him. He was and then he wasn't and no one can offer an explanation. Pete knows he wants to punch every person that tells him to take comfort in the fact Patrick didn't suffer. Because Pete is suffering. Pete is _raging._ And Pete doesn't know what to do with the emotions.

He's not sure he misses him yet. He just knows there's a hollow in his chest.

02:18 December 25th 2016

It's been two months and eight days since Patrick died.

Pete knows that means it's been two months and ten days since he last kissed him. Pete knows it's been just as long since they laid, wrapped together and damp with sweat, in a hotel room in LA. Pete knows it's been just as long since Patrick looked at him and whispered softly “I'm ready. I'm gonna tell her.” and Pete aches with it.

He knows he didn't expect Christmas to be this hard. Pete knows he shouldn't have smashed up the tree and terrified the kids. He knows it's not their fault. Pete knows all of these things but knowing them isn't making it any easier to prevent them.

Joe says he needs help. Andy says he needs to give it time. Pete tells them to go to hell and leave him alone. 

Pete thinks he might miss Patrick more than anything.

04:56 17th April 2017

It's been six months since Patrick died.

He would have turned thirty-three later in the month. People are starting to forget to talk about him. Pete doesn't. Pete talks about him endlessly to fill the silence. He thinks it might be the only thing that stops him from going insane as he recalls stolen kisses and hidden touches. Fingers twined together under conference tables. A smooth chin on Pete's shoulder as they sat close together.

Skin and sweat and come in quiet hotel rooms, a soft, pale body pressed close to his. His best friend, his lover, his completion.

Joe tells him he should think about the future. All Pete thinks of is endless grey, silent years stretching out in front of him. Pete can't bear it.

Pete yearns for Patrick. His body throbs with it.

16:43 October 17th 2017

It's been one year since Patrick died.

The radio stations of Chicago have flared with Fall Out Boy tracks and his solo material. Pete doesn't want to listen but he can't switch it off. 

Pete thinks he's doing okay because he doesn't throw things any more. Doesn't slam his fist through walls. Doesn't rip out handfuls of his own hair because it makes the ache in his stomach stop for just a moment. Andy still tells him he should see a therapist.

Pete can't. Because Pete knows he'll be made to recall lingering touches and reverent kisses. He knows they won't understand if they think Patrick was “just” his best friend. Patrick was more. Patrick was the extra, the thing that made Pete whole. And he doesn't want to share that. 

Pete sometimes sees Declan. He looks so like Patrick. It hurts Pete more than he could ever say. Patrick's house is quiet and still even with the noise of a preschooler because Pete still thinks the world fell silent the moment Patrick did.

Pete thinks maybe he should just go with Patrick.

03:37 February 2nd 2018

It's been one year, three months and sixteen days since Patrick died.

Today Pete sat in his car with a handful of pills and lined them up neatly on the passenger seat. Today Pete thought about joining Patrick. Pete's not sure if he believes in an afterlife but even if there's nothing at least it will be nothing with Patrick instead of this endless something without him.

Pete thinks that might be better.

Joe had called as he sat in the car. Joe had told him he was expecting another baby. Pete had congratulated him and wondered how the world could carry on turning without Patrick in it. But Pete had gathered up the pills and fed them, one by one, back into the bottle. 

Pete thinks maybe he'll wait until another day to join Patrick. He doesn't want to ruin Joe's good news.

Mostly, Pete wishes he could sleep.

22:42 August 29th 2018

It's been one year, ten months and twelve days since Patrick died.

Today Pete sat where Patrick's ashes were scattered and looked out across Lake Michigan. Pete wonders if Patrick saw him. He doubts it. He still doesn't really believe in an afterlife. 

Patrick was. Patrick wasn't.

Pete misses him. Pete aches for him. Pete wonders why he doesn't cry any more but supposes the tears have all been shed and there just aren't any more left.

Patrick was. Patrick wasn't.

Patrick isn't.

Pete is.

Pete doesn't.

Pete can't.

Pete must.

11:18 October 17th 2021

It's been five years since Patrick died.

The radio stations don't flood for him any more. Barely a ripple left in the water to show he ever plunged into it.

Pete can think of him now and smile. Pete still aches but he can lock it inside, only bring it out when he's alone and it's safe. Pete still cries. Pete still wants. 

Pete's not sure of the what ifs and the should have beens. Pete doesn't think they're his. They belong to Elisa and Declan. Pete can't touch them. Pete was never more than the best kept secret though he hopes he was never the biggest mistake. 

Pete still misses him.

Pete always will.

It's been five years since Patrick died.

**Author's Note:**

> So... Yeah. I chose a date in the past so it wouldn't feel like I was tempting fate. Which is weird. But come on, it was four in the morning and I'd just killed Patrick.


End file.
